


Rosencrantz and Guildenstern aren't Dead, They Just Smell Funny

by curtangel



Category: Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead - Stoppard
Genre: FanFiction.Net, Gen, My First Fanfic, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-08-26
Updated: 2001-08-26
Packaged: 2019-04-06 14:53:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14059362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curtangel/pseuds/curtangel
Summary: Originally posted on Fanfiction.net 8/26/2001 as "Ros and Guil aren't Dead, They Just Smell Funny" (if memory serves there was a character limit that prevented me from posting the full names).Done in the play style. Posted with no changes from me except to remove some notes I madeTakes place before the playArchived here 3/22/2018





	Rosencrantz and Guildenstern aren't Dead, They Just Smell Funny

Setting: A darkened set. Ros and Guil are lying down, apart, with blankets and pillows  
Guil tosses a bit. Ros sits up and lights a candle. The set lights enough for them to be seen, but still suggest night.

Ros: Hey... Hey... Are you awake?  
Guil {dryly}: I am now.  
Ros: Sorry... You can go back to sleep if you like.  
Guil: No, I wasn't sleeping well anyways. I've been feeling strangely... anxious. Like when you have to go to school for the first time. On one level it's something new and exciting, but its also change. Change from being at home with parents to being out in the cold cruel world.  
Ros: Do we have school tomorrow? I thought we were on break, because of the kings death and marriage.  
Guil: We are... I was making a metaphor.  
Ros: I thought you were sleeping.  
{beat}  
Guil: Let's just try to go back to sleep.  
Ros: You shouldn't be making metaphors in the dark, anyway. You'll strain your eyes.  
Guil: (sighing) Or perhaps we could talk until one of us falls asleep.  
Ros: We could play a game.  
Guil: What kind of game could we play in the dark?  
Ros: We could play spin the bottle...  
Guil: (pause) We don't have enough people.  
Ros: We could invent people.  
Guil: (losing his patience) WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU? You wake me in the middle of attempting to sleep and suggest that we invent people to play spin the bottle by candlelight with?  
Ros: I was just trying to find something to do... It's hard to sleep with you tossing and turning like that.  
Guil: Then why don't you sleep in your own room for once? Why do you insist on bringing your mattress in here.  
Ros: It's drafty in there, I'd catch myself a death of a cold, and then where would I be? Dead, that's where I'd be, and I bet that's even draftier.  
{Guil covers his head with pillow, or blanket or whatever then slowly uncovers it}  
Guil: {getting an idea} Why don't I pretend to be you, and you pretend to be me and then I go and sleep in your room and you sleep in mine.  
Ros: That's ridiculous I'd never sleep in that room it's drafty in there.  
Guil: Then lets trade rooms.  
Ros (still thinking they had changed identities imitates Guil): Alright then. Can I sleep in here? My room is drafty.  
Guil: What do you mean, it's my room!  
Ros: No, we traded, remember?  
{Guil realizes his mistake and gives in}  
Guil: Alright then.  
{lies back down}  
Ros: Well?  
Guil: Well what?  
Ros: I wouldn't just go back to sleep.  
Guil: {annoyed, sarcastic} I have an idea, why don't we hit each other in the head with mallets until dawn or until we fall asleep? Whichever comes first.  
Ros (as Guil): No, somebody might come in.  
{beat}  
{continuing as Guil} You know one always thinks that when moral choice, true moral choice comes that it will be signaled with a flash of lightening and thunder or the devil coming out of the ground in a burst of flames. But its nothing like that, it's just a quiet decision. The earth doesn't shake and swallow you up if you're wrong and the angels don't come to spirit you to heaven if you're right. Which in a way is rather comforting, but if you consider the forces involved in making a decision of great moral importance, it would be nice to have some kind of warning, a signal. Perhaps something as simple as an unusual bird perching gently on a nearby tree, or seeing a unicorn or something...  
Guil: {imitating Ros} You know lightning kills more people every year than any other weather phenomena.  
Ros: {as Guil} Yes, lightning moves along it's irrevocable course across the heavens, only to end the life of a fool... a sinner, or perhaps just an innocent victim of a god's bad aim.  
Guil {as Ros}: I wonder if lightning killed him...  
Ros: God?  
Guil: The king...  
Ros: What makes you say that?  
Guil: There weren't any marks on him, they say. How can a snake bite with out leaving a mark?  
Ros: A very small snake might. And besides it was a clear day.  
Guil: Says who? We weren't there. {silence} I'm surprised we weren't called to the funeral.  
{at this point they completely to fall out of each other's character}  
Ros: The snake's?  
Guil: THE KING'S! {composing himself} We were childhood friends of the prince.  
Ros: Perhaps the new king didn't know that.  
Guil: Yes... the king is dead, long live the king...  
{coda}  
Ros: Do you think he'll be a good king?  
Guil: Who? The present king or the prince?  
Ros: Whichever...  
Guil: It's hard to say either way. People are changed by power.  
Ros: Or the loss of it.  
Guil: Or the lack of it.  
Ros: Nothing is worse than a person who lacks power, all they can do is sit around and worry about what is going to come of them.  
Guil : Yes, nothing is worse than someone who sits around all day saying "Oh, what shall happen to me next?"  
Ros (as Guil): Was that directed at me?  
Guil: Wasn't it?  
Ros (as Guil): Do you see anyone else?  
Guil: Do you see anyone?  
Ros: Do you hear anyone?  
Guil: Isn't it starting to get lighter?  
(light changes so as to suggest night fading away, there's a rapping sound like someone banging on the shutters)  
Ros (still being Guil): What's all the row about?! Clear off!  
Messenger (offstage): Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, urgent business with the king, no time for questions, get dressed, saddle up and lets go!  
{lights go out and when they come up again Ros and Guil are standing and panting like.. well like people who have been riding at breakneck speed}  
Guil: I think we lost them...  
Ros: Were we trying to?  
Guil: I...(pant) don't remember...  
Ros: Perhaps we should wait here for a while (pant) and if they take this road we can ask them.  
Guil: Well, perhaps a rest to reorient ourselves would be prudent. {sits, stands again} Beautiful day, isn't it? A slight feeling of misapprehension, but can't let that stop us. There are things to be done...  
Ros: Yes... Like what?  
Guil: {unsure} Important things... We'll just slow down a bit, a little pause couldn't do any harm. We'll just play a quick game, and then be on our way.  
{Guil pulls out coin}  
Guil: Call {throws up coin}  
Ros: Heads.  
{coin lands, it is, Guil tosses Ros coin, Guil tosses another}  
Guil: Heads, again. Hmph, a bit of luck at first.  
{Gives Ros coin. Tosses another}  
Ros {looking}: It's heads.  
{Ros picks it up.}  
Guil {tosses another coin}: Yes, a day of change, the day we Rosencrantz and Guildenstern get to do something of importance... Perhaps this will the the time that we will lose our  
Ros {interupting}: Heads. {picks it up}  
Guil: {finishing} fear.  
Ros: Fear of what?  
Guil {tosses coin} Whatever there is to be afraid of. Don't worry, we'll be going home with our  
Ros {looks at coin, picks it up}: Heads.  
Guil: {that's he was going to say so he finishes} held high.  
{Guil tosses another, Ros calls heads, picks it up, and so on ad nauseum}


End file.
